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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233273">my foolish hearts and my second thoughts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rupzydaisy/pseuds/Rupzydaisy'>Rupzydaisy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dhawan!Master - Freeform, Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Gen, because hey, but also kidnaps the timeless child, especially when there's kids involved, he still razes Gallifrey, misguided intentions as always though, what if...the master thinks like the doctor for one second, wwtdd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:47:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rupzydaisy/pseuds/Rupzydaisy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She's smaller than he thought she'd be, both in stature and in timeline. It almost sends him back to the TARDIS, thinking the whole idea a madness beyond his usual limits, but then she sees him and pauses twirling in the sunshine. Although he hears the sound of glass shattering under flames and metal twisting screeching in chorus, because it'll never leave him, never - it suddenly doesn't seem to matter.  </p>
<p>The little girl looks up at him with bright, young eyes, confused and intrigued, but not distrusting. </p>
<p>  <i>I can work with that.</i></p>
<p>“Who are you?” she asks. </p>
<p>His hearts beat in double time as he stretches out his hand, open palm facing upwards to show he was unarmed, truly, for the first time in a long, long, time. “A friend.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Doctor &amp; The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor &amp; The Master (Dhawan)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>my foolish hearts and my second thoughts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I can't help myselffffff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He breaks into the Matrix out of boredom and arrogance and the desire to do something wickedly naughty, and sees countless lives, living and dying and regenerating over and over. The collected history of his people and their consciousnesses assault him, but he presses on, rooting through the whirlpool of visions until he's reached the very heart of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he sees the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Under the heaviest of protections, he sees the oldest memory on Gallifrey, the seed of their existence, the grounding of their towering civilisation...in the wide eyes of a child. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It baffles him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, he follows the truth, bending the Matrix under the force of his physic abilities, like taking a sledgehammer to a tree to count how many rings lay inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The locked box breaks, the protections fall, and he sees the child's face change, and change, and change, until the memory burns gold and bright and shows him a familiar face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He screams, raw and loud and it echoes between the sparks raining down inside the chamber from the overloading machine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It burns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gallifrey burns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He burns it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master leaves the citadel in the throes of glowing embers. The glittering towers now only exist as a remnant in his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He steals a TARDIS, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>had done so many years ago, like he had done countless times, and leaves, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> like she had done. Without looking back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it’s a new TARDIS, inexperienced and unwieldy, and stiff to navigate across temporal bumps. When he inputs the destination, it fights him the whole way there and the journey is horrendous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After landing in a long-forgotten place, an innumerable number of years into the past with singed sleeves and a waistcoat that reeks of smoke, the Master breathes out a sigh of relief. Not only because he’s travelled further back than any Time Lord ever did or ever will, but also because the TARDIS' console didn't explode in his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doubts himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands at the doors for too long with the same taunting thoughts racing through his head. Then he runs back up the ramp to the console, his hands hovering over the lever that would fling him back into the time vortex. The TARDIS’s central console thrums underneath, like a wild dog on a leash, rebelling against the heavy-duty brakes he had hotwired together on the way over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Moments later, the Master runs back to the doors as fast as he can, boots slamming against the metal floor, before turning to yell at the console, “Don’t you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> it? It’s it just so, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans forwards, winded, and the breathlessness slowly returns when tries to straighten himself out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No! Why am I even here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sprints back up to the console again, flicks switches, and tips his head back to watch the rotor lights shine brighter. The light reflects across his face, and his glee is unswallowable. He had levelled the Time Lords. He had achieved everything he so dearly wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master let his hand move back up against the lever, feeling the mechanics underneath straining, willing him forwards, every muscle in his hands just itching for him to move </span>
  <em>
    <span>forwards. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What am I doing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes widen and he backs off, turning in a circle to gather his thoughts as the TARDIS vents squeal high and reedy above him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally the Master makes his decision, and with a thin veneer of composure, he brushes his face away from his forehead. Swaggering down the ramp, he straightens himself out by tugging down the sleeves of his jacket and adjusting his waistcoat, before throwing open the doors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dark hair, dark skin, and dressed in thick robes embroidered with gold thread, she's smaller than he thought she'd be, both in stature and in timeline. It almost sends him back to the TARDIS, thinking the whole idea a madness beyond his usual limits, but then she sees him and pauses twirling in the sunshine. Although he hears the sound of glass shattering under flames and metal twisting screeching in chorus, because it'll never leave him, never - it suddenly doesn't seem to matter.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The little girl looks up at him with bright, young eyes, confused and intrigued, but not distrusting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I can work with that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” she asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hearts beat in double time as he stretches out his hand, open palm facing upwards to show he was unarmed, truly, for the first time in a long, long, time. “A friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she takes his hand, the touch burns him, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>trust </span>
  </em>
  <span>burns him, and he finds himself deeply entrenched into his decision, mind whirring now with a hundred possibilities to </span>
  <em>
    <span>make</span>
  </em>
  <span> this happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master turns on the spot, thinking her as insufferable as always, young or not, and then bites his cheek when he sees how she’s hopping down from cracked step to shattered step. The stone fragments grind under her shoes, staining the ground, and it's a lovely sound to his ears.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A little place I used to call home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boldness was insufferable, he decided. Present in every one of her faces, it seems to be bolstered by her immaturity. So he sighs loudly, rolling his eyes at her before answering. “It used to be called Gallifrey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches her return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old her, that is, in her pastel blue coat and her short blonde hair, and boots that clatter against the debris no matter which way she turns. She lands her TARDIS at the edges of the main sphere every so often, sometimes in the daytime, sometimes in the night time, and just...walks.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whirring thrums fill the air as she lands once more, echoing over the splintered walls and glass. The ruins bounce it back, out of sync, and he fights the urge to cover his ears because it’s the sweetest kind of unbearable sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master leans over the top edge of one of the now open-roof buildings with a pair of binoculars. She walks among the fragments of their once great and powerful home world, taking care in stepping around the brokenness, and he spins the dial on the top of the binoculars to watch her face fall further and further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes she sits on a chunk of rubble, blonde hair slowly turning grey from the ash settling from the still-smouldering fires. She mourns it, understanding what he’s done, what he rubbed her face in after Paris. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They’ll always have Paris.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes she cries, or screams, or talks to herself, but he’s too far for the sound to carry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter. It’s done. He’s finally done it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Doctor, the Doctor-before-she’s-the-Doctor, asks, “Why don’t we leave here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“TARDIS doesn’t like me. It won’t shift.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which was a half-truth. It wouldn’t fly again, not with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>inside. He had blown so many systems, fried the entire star map within its memory drives when bringing them back to Gallifrey. It wouldn’t hold itself together long enough to make another trip. They’d be thrown out into the time vortex, or into a black hole, or worse, like onto </span>
  <em>
    <span>Earth</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be a death-wish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which was really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ironic if he thought about it for a moment or two. But he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it isn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he can swallow up that pain and hurt and stuff it back down for the time being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t we leave another way?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master blinks, turning back to her, “You got a TARDIS up your sleeves?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She made a show of waving the drooping fabric that pooled around her sides, swinging the yellow-golden material in the air. They had raided rooms up and down the main buildings, and she had taken an inordinate amount of delight in dressing herself in every kind of robe she could lay her hands on. He had left her to it and torn apart the library for hidden tomes and filled his pockets with long-secreted memory chips and star maps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her smile grows wide, her round face accentuated by her full cheeks. “Don’t think so.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then." He stretches out his legs and leans back against the steps, “Make yourself comfortable. We’re here for the long run.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” She drags the word out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got a lot of questions, don’t you?” He spits back, fast but without any venom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s unlike him, handling her with kid-gloves, but still, he does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master sighs, lamenting his own state for the umpteenth time, and she reaches forward to bat at his outstretched leg. “Fine, fine. Two lefts, straight down that corridor, and then the third, or fourth right. It used to be one of the astronomy towers, a smaller one, but I think it’s mostly intact. Go read, or something.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She runs off in an instant, feet slapping against the cracked tiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs again, the hard, broken marble digging into his back, wondering if this was what he was being reduced to, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>glorified baby-sitter.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s...that’s…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Doctor splutters as she returns to herself, eyes unseeing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You.” The Master looks over his shoulder at the young girl peering around the door. "Remember what I said."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young girl gives a little nod and hangs back in the doorway beside the Doctor's pets whispering frantically amongst themselves now that the Time Lord had freed herself from the Matrix. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns his attention back to her. There is a glee that's infected him, and he can taste the madness that had fuelled his rage return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s dropped down to her knees, pastel blue coat pooling around her. The Master moves forwards, crouching down beside her to try and catch that glimmer of truth in her eyes, matching it to those he'd become familiar with over the past few weeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you see it! Did you see?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t-” The Doctor reels backwards away from him, voice breaking. "Why did you bring her here? To </span>
  <em>
    <span>torment </span>
  </em>
  <span>me. To </span>
  <em>
    <span>break </span>
  </em>
  <span>me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no. I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you can’t! I just saw all of my past lives, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of them! I’m still here. After everything. I am!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>there's</span>
  </em>
  <span> her anger, recognisable, but colder than he recalled. It hadn't broken her, perhaps she was too old for that. There were times he thought that for himself.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I know. I saw what they did to you.” He nods stiffly, knees locked in place at the edge of the platform since she hadn't risen to her feet yet. "I understand...because what gave </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span> the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence stretches over them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's lost in his own thoughts and as he recalls the memories he'd taken from the Matrix, the ones he's just gifted to her, and his eyes glaze over, seeing without seeing, “Over and over, hubris and rampant power, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>know all about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what, you figured destroying Gallifrey wasn’t enough?" She spits, hands on her knees as she slowly tests out her legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she's towering over him, as she'd always done. "That you’d like to bring her here and rip a hole in the universe with a paradox? Will nothing ever satisfy you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once, they were like two atoms either side of a quantum mirror, she only had to raise a brow or wink, and he'd know they'd be skipping class. His voice turns soft, pleading for her to understand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span>...yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stumbles backward, trying to put the pieces together, struggling to see how they really fit and he’s back on his tiptoes, waiting for the moment that the penny drops. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We need to talk," she snarls out. Then she lunges forward to yank him by the scruff of his neck, and keeps yanking until his collar is cutting into his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl hesitates from her spot by the main entrance, rolling her eyes at his discomfort, but she edges closer to the humans, clearly ready to introduce herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She'll be fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he tells himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They're only humans.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lead the way." The Master tells his dear, old friend, "Age before beauty, isn't it?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What. Were. You. Thinking?" The Doctor demands, standing in a corridor not a hundred feet away from her original face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like a scolding. Or at least it would have if he had a repentant bone in his body. Luckily for him, he didn't. So he argues back, as fierce as she is, standing there with her hands on her hips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I did what I thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>would do." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fight suddenly leaves her. She deflates like a star system without a sun, all that anger and confusion scattered wild and free. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, that's my name." He rolls his neck out and readjusts his collar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she’s squaring off in front of him, anger coalescing again, and when she raises her finger to point at him, he half wonders if she'll attempt to shoot lighting or jab out his eyes. "No, you don't get to act like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Like what?" He turns away and walks further down the corridor. As he goes, he reaches out to touch the scorch marks that ripple wide along the metal walls. "I saw what they did to her. The Timeless Child. The first Time Lord of Gallifrey." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks quicker, boots stamping out a tattoo on the hard floor. "They didn't deserve you, they didn't deserve anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master throws his words over his shoulder, leaving her to chase him again as he takes the steps two at a time. She follows him down flights of stairs, further and further from the heart of Gallifrey and into the sunlight. It beats down on his face, sinking into the thick fabric of his jacket and matches the warmth inside his chest now that the secret was out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because there was a piece of her in every strand of his DNA. No matter where he went, she'd always be there. Their timelines were more further entwined than anyone. Now, as the last two Gallifreyans standing on home soil, the two children who had grown up in the shadow of the greatness of their people, could see how they had really, truly, left their mark.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Deserve?" The incredulity suffuses her voice and she reaches out her hands, in a mock attempt to wring his neck. Strands of her blonde fair flap in the wind when she shakes her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And you can make these decisions, can you? You can raise the stakes so damn high that it doesn't mean a thing to anyone, let alone </span>
  <em>
    <span>our home.</span>
  </em>
  <span> After everything, everything I have done to try and make this right. I lost everything in the Time War!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She backs away, hands now fisted in her hair. "Do you know how much I wanted Gallifrey back? The guilt I carried around with me from the war?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands tall, resolute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More than he had been when he made the decision, torn between fleeing and making his way down the TARDIS ramp to open the door and see the child with his own eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This, he had prepared for. Because it was a strange thing to finally confide in the thoughts that had haunted him and dragged him kicking and screaming from every natural instinct he had. His voice turns soft and his eyes burn, just like the rest of him burns. He couldn’t help it, it was always going to be the two of them, through centuries, and different regenerations, and deaths. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If it were </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>else, any other child in the universe, what would you do, Doctor? Don't lie to me, because I know. I know you so well."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her breathing had turned ragged, and her eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come on, any other child, manipulated and tortured and dragged across the temporal lines kicking and screaming and fearful.” He lets out a giggle, half-impressed that he had managed to temper down his anger again. “Because that Matrix was heavily edited, for their precious egos and eyes…what, would you have done?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits for her answer, and there isn't one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he gives her his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I burnt it all to the ground, erased it from existence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stands there dumbstruck, until she sits down on a lump of rubble, putting her thoughts into words. "But she's me! It's a paradox. What about the Time Reapers, and those Scopiko-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please, give me some credit, I'm the Master!" He waves his hands and then sits down on the ground beside her, "I laugh at the rules of time and space and death. A little elementary level physics is nothing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her accent turns thicker, vowels leaden like her stomach, fingers clenched into the air. "But why? You brought the Cybermen to Paris. Everything from then up until now!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he looks up at her, he can't hide his earnestness. "Would you have paid me any attention if I hadn't? You wouldn't have believed me. I knew, you had to see it with your own eyes." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because however much I hate that the only reason I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is you. And believe me, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>it…” He rolls his eyes, glaring at the desolation around them before turning back to her. “You're my best friend." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leads him back upstairs, walking ahead until she reaches the top of stairs and then they’re side by side in silence. When they walk back into the main atrium, her humans are trying to teach the girl how to play some sort of game. For a moment, the Doctor just stands there with her arms crossed and wrapped around her chest, breathing softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuck!” The girl smacks Ryan on his arm and he freezes on the spot with his arms stuck out, sticking his tongue out at Yasmine who’s darting backwards.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing behind both of them is Graham, arms outstretched and one foot suspended in the air, shaking his head to try and get Yasmine to tap him out. “Doc?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Carry on.” The Doctor tells him, and his shoulders relax a fraction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The humans carry on entertaining the child and she takes a seat on the steps again, while he drops down on the step underneath to look up at her as he rolls down his sleeves. The frown creasing her eyebrows had returned. It suited her well, and he opens his mouth to say something about how it seems to have become fixed to her, but then decides to keep quiet and brushes at his chin instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just out of curiosity, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>your plan?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Master turns to look at her, then presses his lips tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Her confusion turns back into a glare. “No, come on. You always have a plan. Fair enough, it usually takes me a few minutes to figure it out, but when do you ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a plan?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, you want to know? The plan was to raze Gallifrey to the ground. The plan was to get you here to see the citadel in ruins.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And her. Me? Us?” The Doctor tips her head to the side, watching as the girl, now frozen with her arms outstretched waiting for Graham to swoop under them, to copy her and return a small smile of her own. “Fine, you’ve taken her out of her timeline now...but how do you think things will end?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to send her back?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She bites her tongue. “No. You know what? This is your mess. Take some responsibility.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, I will.” He retorts, scrambling up to his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Doctor throws her hands up in the air, “How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Watch me! I’ll come up with something!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Graham stands up from his crouch and stretches out his back. “I can’t believe this. I really can’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’s a solid plan.” Ryan remarks, taking the binoculars from Yasmin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s simple, but effective, right? He puts her back where she needs to be. We jump forward to just after her first regeneration-thingy, he knocks on the door, says he’s stumbled across them, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh look, you’re doing some cool science, I can help</span>
  </em>
  <span>, gives her the answer to your gene-thingy, and then takes the second kid version of you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yasmin smacks his shoulder and then looks up at the Doctor. Her concern is palpable, and it doesn't help to ease the Time Lord's jangled nerves. “I don’t understand. You say he's done all these awful things. He destroyed your planet. How can you trust him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re...complicated.” The Doctor sighs, squinting at the small tent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But it means that the timelines stay the same?" Graham asks, like it's as easy as putting two and two together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scrunches her face and does a bit more math before giving a little nod. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Night falls quickly after that, and they wait and watch the stars come out. The Doctor sends them back to the TARDIS when it gets too late, citing that she needs less sleep than they do. She moves to sit a little further off, keeping an eye on the small habitation in the valley below, trying to see if she could match her new memories to what she can see in front of her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a skittering of rocks and she catches sight of a purple jacket, and then the Master scrambles over the steeper edge, with a small, dark haired girl with a pale face looking mildly bemused. He brushes off the dust from his clothes and looks down at his ruined socks and shoes with a grimace, and then puts his hands on the girl’s shoulders. “One child delivered, as promised.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you said </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were coming back.” The young girl looks up to the Master, and then turns to the Doctor, “But I didn’t really think you’d be here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone has to keep an eye on him.” The Doctor says, eyeing the Master, who only smiles back widely. “So now what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll sort it. It’s not a problem or a paradox as long as the rest of your regenerations take their course. I’ll wipe your memory when the time’s right and then drop you back in your timeline without even a ripple. Say goodbye now.” He pats the girl on her shoulders, and she gives the Doctor a little wave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Doctor steps sideways to block their path, “And what makes you think that I’ll let you go without explaining?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans forward, sticking out his pinky finger. “What about if I promise?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She crosses her arms, standing resolute as ever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, old friend. Trust me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.” The little girl pipes up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Doctor closes her eyes, and then takes a step back to allow them to pass. “I must be going mad.... I’ll be keeping an eye, don’t think I won’t. If I see </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong, even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightest </span>
  </em>
  <span>twist in the timelines, I will find you. And then you’ll be sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a promise?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets it slide, and he gives a final wink before ushering the girl off towards a new TARDIS stolen from the Council’s vault deep in the heart of the citadel. It departs without a noise. Then the Doctor turns her back on the valley and returns to her own TARDIS and family.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The title was influenced by Terry Pratchett :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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